Human beings are profit-seeking animals, and they instinctively run in directions that are advantageous to them. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

Whether Hou Ping'an took the initiative to stand up just now, or passively followed the bow-wielding man here, it was a kind of psychology of avoiding harm and seeking profit.

The same is true of the tribesmen who live underground, who do not want to live in dark underground caverns if possible.

Most of the things in the world are like this, and they never go as they should.

The tribe's settlements look small, at least on the surface. Hou Ping'an followed the man with the bow before he walked to the center of the tribe.

This central is very easy to confirm, because there is only a small wooden house, which can even be said to be a bit small, so small that it may not be as big as the kitchen of Hou Ping'an's house.

Pushing open the door, the wooden house was simply furnished, a square table, a chair and three bookshelves.

There were no books on the shelves, but there were all kinds of clay pots and porcelain vases, and even a lot of jade vases that looked more expensive. These bottles and jars should be filled with all kinds of herbs, and the rich medicinal fragrance fills the room.

In addition to these, all that remains on the shelves are all kinds of stones. Some of them look like jade, but most of them are ordinary stones in Hou Ping'an's eyes.

There were no bookshelves on the front side of the cabin, but there was something hanging on the wall, a bow identical to the one in the hand of the man with the bow, a knife, a sword.

Knives look ordinary, and can be found everywhere in the lodge.

But the sword is a little different.

Although it is not clear whether it is sharp or not, the two bright opals inlaid in the scabbard prove that it is expensive. This is not the style that a southern tribe should have.

When the man with the bow had brought the four of them in, he hung his bow on the wall. Ignoring the precious sword, he stroked the unremarkable looking broadsword.

The man stroked the blade of the knife as he slowly removed it from the wall. As if looking at his own child, he slowly sent it to Hou Ping'an's hands.

Hou Ping'an took the knife inexplicably and looked at the man inexplicably.

It's not that he wants to take it, it's not that he doesn't want to take it. It's just that his mind really can't turn for a while.

Hou Ping'an, who has always boasted that he has a much higher IQ than people of this era, also stood there like a fool at this time, completely unaware of the situation in front of him.

Is this a knife for yourself?

There will be no pie in the sky, this is a truth that Hou Ping'an's mother has always warned him in his previous life. Even if this knife is not worth a few dollars, Hou Ping'an does not believe that a strange man will give it to him for no reason.

There must be some reason, some reason that Hou Ping'an doesn't know.

He looked up at the man, then at the knife in his hand.

Just as he was about to ask, Yu Guang saw the inscription on the hilt.

Hundred Knife Villa.

The four words are very vague, but they are clearly engraved into Hou Ping'an's mind.

Was it the knife in the villa, was it the man in front of him, or did he pick it up somewhere?

Hou Ping'an pulled out the knife behind him, and the same four words were engraved on the hilt. Look at the knife the man handed him, it was so similar to his own, almost identical.

If you have to say the difference, it is that Hou Ping'an's knife has a larger arc, more like the scimitar of the northern Rouran cavalry. Although the knife handed to him by the man also had an arc, it was obviously much smaller, and it was more inclined to the big scimitar of the Central Plains rivers and lakes.

What's going on?

Could it be that the person in front of him is also from the mountain villa? But why has he never seen it? Could it be that it is from his uncle? But what is he doing in southern Xinjiang?

Countless questions filled his mind, making Hou Ping'an frown slightly.

But the man obviously didn't intend to explain, and after handing the knife to Hou Ping'an, he took a letter to him, and then walked out of the cabin with a sword and a bow.

At this time, the outside of the cabin was already full of people, but there was a passage left out, to the north.

That's the direction the man is going.

The whole tribe was quiet, there was no crying, no farewell, and they just watched the man leave in silence. I knew there would be such a day.

The man walked quietly, without saying goodbye to any of them, and went north, toward the place he had dreamed of so many times.

The man gradually disappeared from view. The children in the tribe slowly turned their eyes to the cabin, and turned to Hou Ping'an in front of the cabin.

Then the women of the tribe, then the young and strong, and finally the old men with tears in their eyes.

These eyes were full of expectation, but more of them were hesitation, which made Hou Ping'an at a loss.

He turned and walked back to the cabin, ready to read the letter before making any plans.

There were actually two letters, one of which was supposed to be addressed to the man.

There is no salutation, no greeting, just one thing, which can even be summed up in one sentence: My son is coming.

After reading this letter, Hou Ping'an did not immediately open another piece of stationery.

Because he already knew a lot, he needed to sort through the mess of information in his mind.

It is said that the most difficult thing to imitate a person is handwriting, especially those that are ugly to write. Because it is ugly, the handwriting is especially obvious and the most difficult to imitate.

Hou Ping'an's handwriting is like this, because no one has ever taught him to write systematically, so his handwriting has always been not good-looking, plus he writes most of the time, just to record information, so the handwriting is particularly sloppy.

Hou Dahai is too, he has always regarded himself as a martial artist, so he rarely puts effort into words. In addition, there is a housekeeper at home, and there is Yue Laoqi in the villa, so over the years, Hou Ping'an has seen him write only a handful of times.

But it was these few times that Hou Ping'an deeply remembered Hou Dahai's handwriting.

This letter is obviously Hou Dahai's handwriting, especially the tone of his speech, which is completely the virtue of a country man, which makes Hou Ping'an more convinced that the person who wrote the letter must be his cheap father.

Since it was he who wrote the letter, then the so-called son must be himself. But it's only been less than two months since I went south, why was the letter signed a year ago?

Could it be that Hou Dahai has any other arrangements for his trip south this time? And it was arranged a year ago?

Could it be that he compromised and went south at the beginning, and it was originally in his father's calculations?

This feeling of being calculated made Hou Ping'an very uncomfortable, and even a little angry, even if it was his own father who calculated him.

I figured it out a lot, but it involved more things I couldn't understand.

Hou Ping'an sat down weakly and handed the letter in his hand to Qin Hao.

The sense of superiority in intelligence that he had always had when he faced the ancients was gone.

People, you really can't be too self-righteous.